Los Angeles daily herald., 1887-05-25

Lecture by Hon. John shirley
ward Last Night.

| Inls well -knoWu hsoi1y
delivered an address in the First Pres.
byterian Church last night before the
Young Peoples Society of Christian
Endeavor. +.
The subject was "Truth, the Basis oi
Immortality in Literature" The learned
gentleman began by stating that human
literature began in the Garden of Eden,
and though without the adventitious
attractions of music and the drama to
give it prominence, it yet had that OF
more and imperishable value, the solid
groundwork of truth. Truth was the
attic salt of literature, and to show Its
importance and value it was engraved
on Sinai on tables of stone by the Lord
himself. The Decalogue was the first
recorded literature and the basis OF all
following literature and law. The phi.
losophy of Plato, Socrates, Aristotle and
other philosophers; the writings of
Homer, Hesiod, Eschylus, Herodotus,
Boccaccio, the fables OF Greek, Roman,
Hindu and Scandinavian mythology
were struggles after truth of which they
had derived some flashes and rays of
light from the Jews. All through
ancient mythology was the recognition
of a God, a supreme power. There
were no atheists in those days, but the
people from the dim knowledge of truth
derived from the "people of God" and
the history of the works and words OF
the prophets. and kings of Israel FASH
ioned after them gods OF their own
imagining till Athens alone, the seat OF
the highest learning, had 10000 gods.
Unto these devout people st. Paul said:
"Whom ye ignorantly worship Him
declare unto yeu."
The Athenians were seeking for truth,
as is evidenced in all their worship and
philosophy. All the mythical creations
of Hercules, Achilles, Jupiter, Ajax.
Prometheus, Atlas and the garden OF the
Hesperides were drawn through song
and story, from what was heard OF Moses
and Joshua, Sampson, Elisha, Elijah,
the Maccabees and the garden of Eden,
from the Hebrew nation the custodian of
the truth in literature, till it was dissem.
mated abroad by the coming of Christ,
who opened the floodgates of truth to
the whole world and proclaimed, ~ am
the way, the truth, and the life"
The contrast between the various
notable characters in the Bible and the
paralleled characters in mythology was
drawn with delicate taste and fine dis.
elimination, and was listened to with
deep interest by every member OF the
audience. The language was most select
and diguifed, and abounded in fine
rh torical passages that were delight
to hear. After speaking with grace and
elegance for about three quarters OF an
hour. the speaker closed with the follow.
ing peroration:
Truth is the attic salt of literature
gorgeous, rhetoric and glitteriDg garnl-
ture of words, will not alone save an
author from oblivion. There must be
grand thought, vital principle, living
soul, an immortal truth in our htera-
ture if we expect it to endure. we
must penetrate deeper than the ear,
farther than the eye; yes, we must with
reverent hands open the portals OF the
heart and from its holy OF holies evoke
that which is true, that which is uni.
versal to the heart of mankind. The
aphorism of Solomon, the sententious
proverbs of Seneca, the familiar max
inns of Shakespeare have stood the wear
and tear of ages, because they are true
and appear to the natural heart of man.
kind. The songs of Burns, gushing from
his heart like the MARBLES of untutored
birds will live forever, because they
touch responsive chord in every human
heart. They sing what we feel and
know to be true.
Years ago one born to evil and sorrow
unbarred the doors of his heart and out
flew a song which has stirred the heart
of all mankind, whether sunny, amid
Siberian snow or chanted by Indian
mother on the banks of the Ganges,
or in the organ peal OF great
cathedrals, or in the quiet nest OF home.
The author of that song was so poor that
he had no place to lay his head. he
died in a foreign land. The hand which
wrote "Home, Sweet Home, mouldered
to dust meath Africa's sands, guarded
by pyramid and sphinx. This song sung
itself into the heart OF noble banker at
Washington. It's inspiration opened his
Golfers and outpoured it's glittering gold,
and he resolved to bring home the ashes
OF him who wrote that immortal poem.
A few years ago grand pageant was
seen in the barbor OF New York. A
noble vessel bearing all that was mortal
of John Howard Payne, amid the boom
ing of cannon and the futtering of flags,
sailed into that port, and as its kee
struck the shore million of hearts, II
every language of the earth, Joined II
the swelling anthem, and the song wai
Home, Sweet Home."
That body now rests beside Potomac
waves, and a monument, grander than
the Egyptian sphinx or Cyclopian pyra-
mid will ever guard the sacred dust, TO
it will be that song,